


Until Then We'll Have to Muddle Through Somehow

by TARDISTraveller42



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Christmas, Crew as Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hanukkah, Holidays, New Years, Platonic Relationships, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28098906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TARDISTraveller42/pseuds/TARDISTraveller42
Summary: It's Seven of Nine's first holiday season on Voyager. She doesn't understand why the crew bothers to waste energy and resources on such festivities, but she is intrigued enough to find out why, exactly, the holiday season is so important to everyone.Or, Seven of Nine learns to trade efficiency for family, and learns the meaning of Christmas (and many other winter holidays, too).
Relationships: Seven of Nine & Other(s)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. "Identifying the Cause for Lowered Crew Morale in the Winter Months"

Chapter One  
“Identifying the Cause for Lowered Crew Morale in the Winter Months”

While Seven sat in Sickbay, as had become her weekly routine, she allowed her eyes to pass around the room and make quiet observations. Lieutenant Paris had introduced her to the fictional detective Sherlock Holmes, who often solved cases using his skills of observation and deduction. Though she wasn’t enamored with the fictional exploits of this detective and his easily amazed friend Doctor Watson, his methodology intrigued her. Most characters from Lieutenant Paris’ literary library were inclined toward romance and frivolous activities. Sherlock Holmes’ approach to life, based on logical analysis, was quite refreshing.

Seven’s hand lifted almost automatically as the Doctor continued his tricorder scans. Their weekly checkups had become a sort of dance, both of them moving in tandem to get the scans over with as quickly as possible. But today, as Harry Kim exited Sickbay with a mild headache and a saddened smile, Seven decided to break tradition and begin a casual conversation.

“Crew morale has decreased by 15% in the past three weeks,” she said. “However, I have been unable to identify a cause.”

The Doctor smiled for a moment, presumably directing it toward herself rather than the words she had said. He finished scanning the implants in her arm, and then turned the tricorder scanner toward her hand. 

“Some people experience effects similar to seasonal affective disorder when on long space flights such as ours. It can occur because of the lack of natural sunlight, or from an imbalance of serotonin and melatonin.”

“But that can occur at any time on Voyager,” Seven replied, lowering her hand as the Doctor checked his readings. “Why has there been such a sudden shift in crew morale?”

The Doctor shrugged, disappearing behind the computer terminal. 

“It is the holiday season. A lot of people feel the distance from home at this time of year.”

“Our distance is nearer to Earth than it was last year,” said Seven, shaking her head.

The Doctor raised his head above the computer so that he could look at her. He was smiling again, just slightly. That smile that was clearly not about the subject they were discussing.

“At this time of year, there are a lot of Earth holidays people celebrate with their families,” he explained. “Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ōmisoka…so the crew often uses this time to reflect on where we are, and think about home.”

“It does not seem wise to think about home if it causes depressive moods.”

The Doctor tilted his head.

“We try to keep everyone’s spirits up,” he said. “We have parties, festivals…”

“As a Borg, I was always taught that festivities were a waste of time and resources,” Seven said quietly. “The Borg work every day of the year, as efficiently as possible each of those days.”

The Doctor allowed himself a playful smirk.

“The Borg can learn a thing or two from humanity. There are documented medical benefits to taking breaks and enjoying celebrations.”

Seven lowered her hands to her lap. She wasn’t wholly satisfied with his answers. After all, as she next informed the Doctor:

“Becoming inebriated, making questionable decisions among coworkers, and ignoring responsibilities hardly seems a benefit.”

The Doctor sighed, maintaining that knowing smile that was starting to annoy the more human side of Seven’s psyche. Clapping the tricorder shut, he leaned on the computer console and cocked his head to the side.

“There’s an old human expression,” he said, staring up at the ceiling as if addressing a stage light centered on himself, “don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it.”

Seven raised an eyebrow.

“You believe that I should engage in the winter festivities before commenting on their validity?”

The Doctor sighed again.

“That’s exactly the point, Seven. Holidays aren’t about validity, or medical benefits, even. They’re about...well, I think you have to figure that out for yourself.”

Seeing as their medical checkup was finished and the Doctor had apparently found no cause for concern, Seven slid off of the medical bench. She was about to head out the door when she had a thought. Turning, she met the Doctor’s eye as he hid her medical files from view.

“I will attempt to learn more about human holidays,” she said with a determined nod. “I believe it will be beneficial to my social development. And I will try to keep an open mind.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” the Doctor said with a smile.

Seven left Sickbay already dreading whatever horrors she would meet as a result of this ‘open-mindedness’ she had promised. If it were up to her, she would work all through the holidays and allow everyone else to engage in awful small talk and drunken celebrations. 

But there was no time to brood over her decision. There was work to be done; and with the holidays approaching, she would need to work more efficiently than ever if she were to stay on top of her duties.


	2. “The Festival of Lights, a Celebration with Commander Tuvok and Others”

Chapter Two  
“The Festival of Lights, a Celebration with Commander Tuvok and Others”

Seven had put this off as long as she could. But still that didn’t seem long enough.

Tonight was the eight night of Hanukkah, the first holiday to occur in the terran calendar this December. She’d done her research and knew what to expect. However, she was still unsure about joining these holiday celebrations at all. Perhaps the crew wished to continue their traditions without her. They had already spent the past three years together, after all. She might be an unwelcome presence in their festivities.

The only consolation, as she stood outside of the Mess Hall with a gift elegantly wrapped in blue and white paper, was that this ceremony was led by Lieutenant Tuvok. He was a logical man, and wasn’t prone to excessive celebrations or small talk. 

The same could not be said for the crewmembers celebrating Christmas next week, but that was an issue for another time. 

Seven gathered herself, took a deep breath, and entered the Mess Hall doors. Immediately, the smell of food met her senses and caused her stomach to ‘growl’ (Lieutenant Paris’ word, not hers). In preparation for the dinner, she’d stopped herself from consuming her nutritional supplement today. And now, as she eyed the dishes sitting on the counter, she had to admit she was looking forward to the prospect of eating ‘real’ food for a change.

“Seven!” Neelix called, appearing from the kitchen with oil splattered all over his apron. “Hanukkah sameach!”

Seven nodded in his direction, eyes locked on the food items spread out between them. Neelix brushed his hands on his apron and gave her a smile.

“I can take that present from you. Who’s it for?”

As he reached for the box, perfectly wrapped and taped and creased, Seven unconsciously pulled it closer to herself. She raised an eyebrow at his hands, still messy with kitchen oil.

“It is for Lieutenant Tuvok.”

Neelix seemed to realize she wasn’t going to hand off her present any time soon, so he nodded toward the back corner. 

“Tuvok’s presents are to the left of the replicator. Someone’s given you a little something, too, actually.” He turned a smile toward the table nearest to her, where a silver box sat. “But you have to wait until after dinner to open it.”

Seven nodded, feeling a strange rush of nerves flood her chest. It was most likely apprehension, or a similar sensation. After all, this entire situation was new to her. It was only normal to experience anxiety and unease. No; ‘anxiety’ and ‘unease’ seemed the wrong words to use. But she didn’t have the correct words yet, so she let the feeling pass through her without judgment.

“Do you want to try a latke?” Neelix asked, offering her one of the plates from the counter. 

She stared at the fried potato pancake for a long moment. Then, with a shrug, she picked one of them up and bit into it. Strangely, given the low nutritional value of the food, she enjoyed it. 

Perhaps taste and nutritional value were inversely related? 

That was a query for another time, perhaps.

“I think we’re ready to start,” Neelix said, setting the plate of latkes back on the counter. 

Seven turned to the back corner of the Mess Hall to find Tuvok, Vorik, and a few ensigns from Engineering and Security standing behind a table topped by a Menorah. Seven joined them, Neelix on her heels, and stood beside Tuvok. 

“We are about to begin the lighting of the candles,” said Tuvok, raising the shamash, the helper candle. “This represents the miracle of the oil lasting eight nights, as opposed to the logical one night that was expected.”

“Though,” Neelix said with a smile, “the real miracle of the oil is how many latkes you can make with the amount of oil that’s allotted by replicator rations.”

“Mr. Neelix,” Tuvok said, closing his eyes with an almost pained expression on his face. 

Neelix chuckled to himself, and then the group turned back to the Menorah.

Vorik turned to Seven, hands neatly behind his back. “The candles also represent light overcoming darkness.”

“Good defeating evil,” added one of the ensigns.

Seven nodded. And with that, Tuvok began lighting the candles.

Seven had prepared for this, with a little help from the Doctor. So when Tuvok, Neelix, Vorik, and the others began to sing, she joined them without hesitation.

“Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner shel Hanukkah.”

Tuvok lit the final candle, and returned the shamash to the center candleholder. Seven lost herself in the light of the Menorah, just for a moment. It was...tranquil. Calm. And for a long minute, they all stood with wondrous eyes gazing into that light. It was a peaceful moment of reflection, which Seven appreciated and enjoyed. 

And then, of course, their contemplation was broken with the promise of food and other traditions still to be enjoyed.

…………………………. …………………….. …………………….. …………………

“Thank you, Ensign Vorik!” Neelix gasped, holding the box of sufganiyot Vorik had gifted him as carefully as one might hold a newborn baby. 

“I believed you would enjoy sufganiyot prepared in a more traditional way,” Vorik said. 

Neelix leaned toward him with a playful smirk.

“I hope that wasn’t a comment about my cooking. I practiced making sufganiyot all week!”

“One would never guess,” Tuvok said, causing everyone in the room to laugh. And those who did not laugh, such as Seven and Vorik, smiled more than they were ever prone to.

Neelix gave Tuvok and Vorik one last mock-offended gasp, and then set down his box of sufganiyot. With an over exuberant smile, as was his customary smile, he turned to Seven.

“I think it’s time to open your present, Seven. It was mostly Tuvok’s idea.”

Seven met Tuvok’s eye. He nodded, with a more relaxed expression than usual. It seemed that the holidays even worked their supposed ‘magic’ on Vulcans. The strange phenomenon of ‘holiday spirit’ could not, therefore, be attributed as a human trait.

Seven stashed these thoughts away for the moment and picked up her silver box. It was wrapped neatly, undoubtedly done by Tuvok. She almost felt uneasy tearing into it; as if shattering the near-perfection of the cube. Something in the back of her mind made her wonder if the Borg did, in fact, have a religion, and if that religion was in striving for perfection. 

But again, Seven shook these thoughts away. The box in her hands was unwrapping. And as she slid the paper down onto the table, folding it as neatly as possible, she discovered an item inside.

“It is a Menorah,” she said, eyeing the specially crafted candelabra with an appreciative eye.

Tuvok sat up a little straighter, folding his hands in front of himself.

“It was originally designed on Vulcan, by one of our finest sculptors,” he explained. “This one is, of course, replicated.”

“We wanted to give you something to remember tonight,” Neelix said. “Your first time celebrating Hanukkah. One of my personal favorite holidays.”

Seven allowed a small smile as she gently set the Menorah onto the table. 

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” she said to Tuvok. “Perhaps we may use it next year.”

She shared an embarrassingly heartwarming moment making eye contact with each of the people spread around the couches and chairs in the Mess Hall. Then, when her face was properly blushing, she cleared her throat and gestured toward Tuvok’s pile of presents.

“I believe that you are next,” she said.

Tuvok gave her a quick glare, apparently hating the spotlight as much as she. But before he could voice opposition, Neelix was rushing back with his hands full of Tuvok’s gifts.

“This one is from me,” he said, handing Tuvok a blue bag.

Tuvok opened the present with the hesitation of one opening a box of snakes. But as he realized what was inside, his apprehension softened.

“It is a dreidel.” Tuvok turned the toy over and over in his hand, examining the markings and designs carefully. 

Neelix leaned so far forward in his seat that he nearly fell off.

“It has the original Hebrew letters as well as the Vulcan translation. And I did try to paint Voyager on the top of it but...it was a pretty small surface area.”

Tuvok squinted at the top.

“Thank you, Mr. Neelix,” he said. 

Neelix adjusted himself in his seat, yet again, as he continued to fold and unfold his hands.

“I was hoping we could play a game. I did replicate some gelt to make it more interesting.”

Tuvok raised an eyebrow.

“I will play one game with you, Mr. Neelix.” At Neelix’ excitable grin, he shrugged. “It is, after all, Hanukkah.”

“That it is, Mr. Vulcan.”

Tuvok rolled his eyes at the nickname. But then it was time for Seven to give him her present. 

Being Borg, Seven was not prone to most human social anxieties. Others opinions did not affect her nearly as much as certain other members of the crew. And once one has been assimilated by the Borg, the words of others’ did not appear so threatening. 

However, as she passed Tuvok the silver box she had so carefully wrapped, she felt her heart rate increase. She found herself hoping that he would enjoy her present, and concerned that he would think it strange or otherwise unbecoming.

Tuvok opened the box and pulled out what was inside. He flipped it over in his hands a few times before turning to her with a raised brow.

“I am afraid that I cannot identify what this piece of equipment is to be used for,” he admitted.

Seven’s cheeks blushed, yet again. But she maintained her composure.

“That is because I only just invented it.” She swallowed, wondering if her comment would be labelled as ‘bragging’. But shaking her head, she continued, “It is a portable energy source that should bolster the power cells at your station in ops. If there is ever an emergency, you will be able to bring your station power up faster and for much longer than the original design would normally permit.”

A sudden silence overtook the room when Seven finished her explanation, as they all stared in awe at the powerful little device in Tuvok’s hand. Unable to handle the strange and awkward quiet, Seven sat up straighter.

“Like the oil that burned for eight nights rather than one,” Seven said, “I hope that this will allow your station to function optimally for longer than logic would dictate.”

Neelix gave her an encouraging smile and a pat on the shoulder. And as Seven looked around the room, she found everyone nodding and eyeing her with an expression of pride and impression. 

Tuvok, after another moment studying the device, met her eyes.

“Thank you, Seven. It is an apt and thoughtful gift.”

His words made her chest feel...warm? Her stomach, fuzzy? It was as if there were insects crawling on her skin, making her feel slightly giddy. 

None of her internal diagnostics seemed alarmed, so Seven allowed the feelings to persist without rushing herself to Sickbay. But it was a strange sensation. One that she felt had something to do with these holidays and festivities.

Now, if only she could find out what exactly it was that triggered the feeling.


	3. 'Twas the Night Before Christmas

Chapter 3  
“Twas the Night Before Christmas”

On Christmas Eve, Seven found herself alone in the astrometrics lab. The captain had instilled a ‘skeleton crew’ in every department to allow those celebrating the holiday to do so without abandoning their post. Technically under these orders the astrometrics lab could have been left unattended. There wasn’t even work to be done; only diagnostics and maintenance checks.

But Seven insisted on being in here, if just so that she was not out there. ‘Out there’ being in any of the recreational rooms, the Mess Hall, or the hallways outside of crew quarters. Everywhere there was the painfully sweet smell of cookies, competitions between crewmen as to who can say ‘ho ho ho’ the loudest and most boisterously, and adults wearing antlers and elf hats. If a stranger arrived on Voyager tonight, they would think that everyone had regressed to childhood, or perhaps they had been infected with a strange viral agent that lowered one’s inhibitions.

As she ran yet another unnecessary diagnostic, Seven thought back to her celebration of Hanukkah with Tuvok and the others. That quiet, contemplative evening was so far removed from the chaos this evening had wrung. The range of terran (and terran-Vulcan) holidays was proving to be much wider and more diverse than Seven originally thought. 

That thought intrigued her. But it frightened her, as well. What other horrors awaited her, when they crew downed their last eggnog and stashed away their antlers?

As if in answer to her question, the Comm system beeped on: a message for the whole crew. Seven stood up straighter, eyes lighting up as she waited for what was probably an important hail from the captain. An anomaly? An attack? A new scientific discovery?

No. The voice that came over the Comm system was not the captain’s. It was, in fact, Mr. Neelix.

Seven rolled her eyes and got back to work.

“Goooood evening Voyager!” Neelix’ too-cheery voice rang out. “It’s time for our annual tradition: a reading of that great poem you all know and love by yours truly…’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.”

Seven tried to ignore the reading; tried to get back to work. But against her wishes, her ears perked up. She became distracted at every rhyme; every inflection of Neelix’ voice. And eventually, as the poem continued on in its merry way, she raised her hands from her station altogether and merely stood there, listening.

The story was strange. There were blatant logical inaccuracies; reindeer who flew through the sky, men who descended chimneys. But the mythos was....intriguing. There was certainly a great deal of research material hidden in the lines of this long poem. Human culture, religion, historical lineage, art. And this endearing character of St. Nicholas, whose function was unknown. 

In time, Neelix’ reading drew to a close and Seven blinked herself back into focus. Back to the diagnostic, back to pretending she wasn’t interested in the sillier aspects of human holidays. But before she could do that, the door to astrometrics was sliding open and a pair of footsteps were dashing into her lab.

“Seven! Seven!” Naomi Wildman called, skipping and smiling. “Did you hear Neelix?”

“It would have been impossible not to hear it,” Seven replied with a raised brow. Turning to Naomi, she said, “Why are you still awake? It is past your standard bedtime.”

Naomi’s smile brightened.

“Mom lets me stay up later this week, because of all of the holidays. Later we’re going to watch the carol singers.”

“Carol singers?”

Seven had not finished her research about Christmas celebrations. She had mostly studied the religious meaning of the day, which had since proven rather insignificant. As opposed to Hanukkah, which had better maintained its historically religious roots, Christmas had become more and more secular over time. Starfleet, secular by nature, did not spend nearly as much time discussing the baby Jesus as they did the values of ‘family’, ‘giving’, and the ever-enigmatic ‘Santa Claus’.

“Every year,” Naomi explained, bouncing on the balls of her feet, “a group of crewmembers walk around the ship. They sing songs, get dressed in funny costumes...it’s fun! You should watch them when they come around.”

Seven was about to respond in the negative; say that she had too much work to do, or that she was tired and would go back to her Cargo Bay to regenerate. But just then, her Comm Badge chirped.

“The Doctor to Seven of Nine.”

“Go ahead, Doctor,” she replied.

“I’d like you to join me in Sickbay right away,” the Doctor said.

His voice was brisk and tight. An emergency? Perhaps. Especially at this hour; especially in Sickbay. It was unusual that he wasn’t contacting Mr. Paris or one of the other medics. But that might have meant it was an emergency regarding Seven herself. 

Shaking her head to clear away these distracting thoughts, Seven started out of the astrometrics lab at full speed.

“I’m on my way.”

……………….. ……………………….. …………………. …………………...

Seven was not sure what she expected to see when she stepped into Sickbay. A medical chart, perhaps, showing that she had a disease that needed immediate treatment? Or a member of the crew who was injured and required the use of her Borg implants to save them?

Whatever it was she expected, it was not what she ultimately found. No, what Seven found when she stepped through the doors to Sickbay, heart racing from the speed at which she’d walked here, was something that made her stop in her tracks.

The Doctor. In 19th century Earth clothing: top hat, cloak, and all. Holding two leather-bound choir books in his hands. 

Stranger than that, there were three other crew members standing beside him in similar garb. Ensign Peterson, from Engineering. Lieutenant Ayala. And...Captain Janeway.

“Hello, Seven,” she said, nodding carefully so she didn’t knock the poofy maroon hat off of her head. “We need your help.”

“My...help?” Seven turned her confused expression to the Doctor, who seemed more distressed than when there was a legitimate medical emergency.

“Our first soprano lost her voice,” he said hurriedly, shaking his head. “I told her not to go on an amusement park ride today, but nobody listens to their doctor, do they?”

“Doctor,” Janeway said, placing a calming hand on his arm. 

He took a breath, sighing with the effort.

“You’re the only one who can take her place. No one else can learn the songs quickly enough and we’re expected to begin in less than half an hour!”

Seven’s eyebrow raised even closer to her hairline.

“You want me to...sing?”

The Doctor nodded with an encouraging smile. He handed her the choir book and, before she’d had a chance to look at it, began flipping through its pages to show her various pieces.

“We’re starting with ‘We Wish You a Merry Christmas, the classic caroling song. And then we’ll move into some more difficult territory with ‘Oh Come All Ye Faithful’ and ‘Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel’. Finally-”

“Wait, Doctor” Seven interrupted, holding up a hand. “I have never heard any of these songs before.”

“You’ll do brilliantly!” The Doctor said. “But you will need to get into costume before we start. Ask the computer for ‘19th century’ attire.”

Seven turned her exasperated expression toward Janeway. She was hoping to garner some sympathy from the captain. After all, this went far beyond her duties. Above and beyond, if she were honest. But the captain only gave her an encouraging smile.

“You’re the best person for the job,” she said with a shrug.

Seven breathed in. And she was about to breathe out with a flurry of excuses and Borg adages; reasons why it was necessary for her to regenerate right now and why singing would be a ridiculous endeavor. But as her eyes passed over her captain’s; her crewmates; the Doctor’s…a stab of something hit her stomach and chest. Something like sympathy. But more positive. She didn’t know quite how to categorize the feeling yet, but it was similar to the sensation she’d felt after giving Tuvok his present.

Whatever the feeling was, it wasn’t going to let her go to bed without singing a few ‘carols’ with her crew.

“Where may I change?” 

The Doctor gave her a choir book and a smile.

“There’s a room behind my office that has a lockable door and a replicator,” he said. Then, shaking his head with a sigh, he added, “Thank you, Seven.”

Seven felt her lips turn just a fraction upward. She wouldn’t call it a smile; not yet. But it was frighteningly close to one.

………………… ………………….. ………………… ……………….. ………………………..

“ _We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year_!”

Carol singing, it turned out, was not as terrible as Seven had feared. Her costume was rather inefficient and would have proven perilous in an emergency, but luckily there were no threats aboard tonight. The Doctor and Captain Janeway led the possession, hardly needing to glance at the choir books in their hands. They smiled and waved to crewmen as they passed by, and the crewmen smiled and waved in return.

Seven focused mainly on the words and notes written on the page in front of her. The songs were simple, but her lack of experience made it difficult to walk and follow the music at the same time. Just once she glanced up and met Naomi’s eye. She seemed to brighten in noticing that she had joined the carol singers, and tugged at her mother’s sleeve to point it out. 

Turning back to face front, Seven followed the Doctor and the Captain through another corridor, then into the nearest turbolift. Here, suddenly, they stopped singing.

“I have to say, Doctor,” Janeway said, leaning against the back wall as she collected her breath. “This year is going better than ever.”

“That’s not saying much,” the Doctor replied, which brought a few smiles and laughs out of the others.

Seven furrowed her brows.

“What has been the problem with previous performances?” she asked.

The Doctor and Janeway shared a look. 

“Well,” the Doctor said, “last year Ensign Davies fainted from stage fright.”

“And the year before that,” Janeway added, “there was a Kazon attack right when we got to the Mess Hall. I had to run to the bridge in my costume.”

“Whilst I,” the Doctor interjected, “Had to perform surgery and take care of serious medical emergencies in mine.”

They laughed again. Seven did not fully understand the humor, but she could see the peculiarity in speaking with hostile aliens or operating with a bonnet or a top hat on one’s head.

Sometimes it was a wonder how this crew had gotten so far, with all of the strange and ridiculous events that had taken place onboard.

“Computer,” Janeway said to the ceiling, “Bridge.”

The Doctor turned to Seven with a grin.

“Thank you again, Seven. Your performance was lovely.”

“Is the caroling over?” 

“Almost. The Bridge is where we sing our final song, ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town’. It’s more of a sing-a-long, really.”

“A...Sing-a-long?” asked Seven.

Janeway answered, “The whole crew joins us. And then Neelix brings cookies and candy canes for everyone...it’s very sweet.”

Seven took another deep breath. Tonight’s festivities were far more draining than Tuvok’s small, intimate celebration of Hanukkah. But this was the captain’s favorite holiday, and Seven was determined to learn and involve herself as much as she dared. It was for research, after all.

“ _You better watch out_ ,” the Doctor sang suddenly, prompting the others to join him as the doors slid open. “ _You better not cry_.”

“ _You better not pout_ ,” Seven continued, scanning the page in her choir book as she stepped out onto the Bridge. “ _I’m telling you why_.”

In an instant, everyone on the Bridge was joining them. From their stations, from the replicator on the far wall, from the Command chair...the entire crew still working burst into song with the lyric, “ _Santa Claus is Coming to Town_.”

Mr. Paris was especially exuberant in his singing, practically shouting the lyrics. The ensign beside him blushed, but joined in the singing with her own quiet voice. In the Command chair, Chakotay met Kathryn’s eyes and laughed so hard he could hardly join in the musical outpouring occurring around him.

Eventually, the carol singers formed a small group standing in the front of the room, facing the Command chair. Seven was more anxious here than anywhere else; walking had helped distract her from the strange nerves zinging up and down her body. But here, standing with everyone’s eyes on her...surely this was not an enjoyable exercise? But the Doctor did certainly seem to be enjoying himself.

“One more song!” the Doctor called, dropping his choir book and waving everyone to join them. “ _We wish you a merry Christmas_....”

The crew did join in. They sang louder than ever. And then, as Neelix and Naomi Wildman arrived with cookies and candy canes and a beverage called ‘hot chocolate’, the merry band of weary travelers grew even more joyful. And louder, as well.

“I don’t have any Figgy Pudding,” Neelix joked. “But I have added some of my favorite spices to the hot chocolate.”

“Whew!” Paris exclaimed, lowering the cup from his mouth with a wince. “You certainly did.”

Everyone smiled and laughed again. Seven watched them, and felt that sensation again. The not-good, not-bad feeling. Nostalgia? No; she did not have many memories with these people, it could not be that. Happiness? She was not particularly fond of these celebrations herself. She was content, but hardly as ‘joyful’ as the rest of them.

As she wondered about her strange emotions, Seven felt someone touch her shoulder: The Doctor.

“Are you alright?” he asked, scrutinizing her with his usual Doctor-eye even under that ridiculous top hat. 

Now Seven knew how that crewman must have felt when they were receiving medical care from a 19th century carol singer.

“Yes,” she answered automatically, unsure of her honesty.

The Doctor seemed to understand something about her that she did not. He smiled kindly and softened his voice.

“It’s easy to feel overwhelmed with all of this. I know I was during Voyager’s first holiday celebrations.”

Seven nodded. Yes; overwhelmed. That sounded right.

“I relieve you of carolling duty,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Though I might recruit you again sometime. You have a lovely voice.”

“Thank you,” Seven said, finding herself almost blushing. “I will see you tomorrow, Doctor.”

“Goodnight.”

As Seven made her way back to her Cargo Bay, carrying her bonnet and a box of sugary snacks that Neelix had wrestled into her hands, she let herself smile. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough. Enough to know that she was on the right track.

Enough to know that, maybe, if tomorrow and the next week or so went just as well as today...maybe the holidays actually weren’t so bad.


	4. Christmas, Part One

Chapter Four  
“Christmas, Part One"

Seven was about to begin her morning log when she noticed a card sitting on the console beside her regeneration chamber. It was made of cardstock and featured images of reindeer, cottages, and a town covered in snow. A quaint scene, if a bit nostalgic and sentimental for Seven’s taste. 

In the inside fold, someone had left a handwritten note.

_Seven,_

_You are cordially invited to join us for a Senior Officer Christmas Party on the Holodeck tonight. The party begins at 1900 hours. Please bring a gift for your assigned recipient of the Secret Santa gift exchange._

_Tom_

Lieutenant Paris, or ‘Tom’ as he had signed, had also left a small note inside the card. It read B’Elanna’s name. Seven’s ‘secret santa gift exchange’ recipient, presumably.

The problem was that Seven did not know what a ‘secret santa gift exchange’ was. And if it was what she thought, then she had no idea what she would give her recipient.

So Seven did what she always did when she had a social problem that could not be solved by searching Voyager’s database. She went to Sickbay.

………………………. ………………………. ………………………………. 

“Doctor,” Seven said, settling her hands behind her back, “I have a query.”

The Doctor looked up from his computer and smiled. Sitting back in his chair, he folded his hands on his lap.

“Fire away.”

“I have been invited to a gathering this evening.”

“The Christmas party?” the Doctor asked, his eyes and his smile brightening. 

“Yes. However, I am unsure what to give the recipient of my secret santa gift. B’Elanna Torres does not-”

“Woah!” the Doctor raised a hand. “You’re not supposed to go around telling people who you’re giving a gift to. That’s why it’s called ‘secret’.”

Seven restrained herself from rolling her eyes.

“B’Elanna Torres,” she continued, “has not engaged in any other holiday tradition this season. I do not believe she enjoys Christmas, which is quickly becoming understandable.”

The Doctor furrowed his brow at her last statement, but didn’t comment. He sat up straight again and tilted his head.

“It’s best to put yourself in the other person’s shoes.”

Seven raised a brow.

“Lieutenant Torres’ shoes are two sizes too small for me.”

The Doctor laughed at her comment, taking it as a form of humor. 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” he asked, not really desiring an answer. A moment later, he continued, “If you were B’Elanna, what would you want as a gift right now?”

“Peace and quiet, most likely.” Seven’s eyes widened at her own words. “I believe I have had an idea.”

“Excellent!” the Doctor exclaimed. “Don’t tell me. We’re supposed to find out as a surprise tonight.”

Seven thanked him for his help and turned to go. But before she left, she stopped. Turned back to him.

“Doctor? Who are you giving a secret santa gift to?”

The Doctor’s eyes widened for a second, then he mimicked keeping his lips sealed.

“You’ll find out tonight.” His lips softened into a smile. “Merry Christmas, Seven.”

She nodded.

“Merry Christmas, Doctor.”

………………………….. ………………………….. ……………………………………

Seven stood in front of the Holodeck doors for a long, long time. The note had not implied there was a dress code. And yet everyone who had entered was wearing a ridiculous sweater. Some of them had multicolored lights, some displayed penguins or other wintery scenes, and others were just aesthetically unpleasing. 

Should she return to the cargo bay and replicate a sweater for herself? However, the party was beginning in fewer than five minutes. She had never been late to an appointment before, and was wary to do it now. And besides, she was already holding her gift for B’Elanna, wrapped in green paper. Taking it on another journey through the ship could risk damaging it. 

So Seven took a deep breath. And feeling more anxiety than when facing off a hostile alien, she entered the room.

The Holodeck program was new to her. It featured a quaint cottage, roomy enough for everyone invited to the party. A roaring fire blazed in the chimney, surrounded by enormous couches that would fit the entire Bridge crew. In the back of the room, sounds and smells were emerging from a kitchen with a coal-powered oven.

Mr. Neelix, it seemed, had been here for a while.

“Seven!” he exclaimed, his loud voice even more offensive to her senses than the hideous sweater he wore. “Put your secret santa gift under the tree, and then come be the first to try my gingerbread.”

Seven nodded, releasing a slow breath. It would take a lot of energy to get through this night. Perhaps she would regenerate late into tomorrow morning. The diagnostics could wait a while longer, most likely. There would be time to-

She froze in her movements and her thoughts.

There, sitting by an innately carved staircase, was a Christmas Tree. Seven had only seen them in photographs and holo-images. But the real thing; the real holographic thing, that was...it was a sight to behold. Ornaments decked every branch. Strings of popcorn weaved in and out of the reds and blues and greens of lights. And there at the top was a star. It was not an accurate representation of any star she had seen, but it was striking, nonetheless. 

Beautiful, nonetheless.

Before she could lose herself, Seven set B’Elanna’s gift under the tree and stepped back toward the kitchen. Neelix’ gingerbread smelled better than most of his cooking exploits. And as soon as she tasted it, she decided that holographic food could, in fact, taste better than her nutritional supplements. 

Tomorrow she would return to her nutritional supplements, obviously. But until then she would enjoy this. She would _let_ herself enjoy this.

…………………………….. ………………………………. ……………………………

“Awww!” Captain Janeway cooed, lifting the puppy in her hands up to her face. Booping its nose with her own, her eyes sparkled as if close to crying. “Chakotay, she is gorgeous.”

“This one wasn’t me, I’m afraid,” said the First Officer. 

Janeway looked at everyone in turn, eventually resting her eyes on Neelix.

“Did you-?”

“Guilty as charged!” 

Everyone laughed, slightly hysterical and slightly intoxicated. Even Seven allowed herself a smile as the captain settled the dog on her lap.

“Thank you so much, Neelix. I’ve wanted another dog for so long...I couldn’t get myself to make a hologram of Mollie.”

“What are you going to name her?” asked Chakotay, stroking the dog’s fur from where he sat on the sofa’s armrest. 

“I’m going to call her...Cara.”

“Unfortunately,” the Doctor noted, “Cara will not be allowed use of my Mobile Emitter.”

B’Elanna rolled her eyes, nestling into Tom’s chest as she gripped her drink a little tighter.

“If you need me to steal it from him sometime, Captain,” she said with a pointed look at the Doctor.

Janeway raised a steadying hand.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary. But it would be nice to have Cara in my ready room every now and then.”

The Doctor hid his Mobile Emitter from view, just a little bit. But enough people picked up on it that the room exploded with drunken laughter again.

When the noise settled back into a slight murmur, Harry reached over and grabbed the next present from under the tree. 

“This one is for...B’Elanna!”

Seven’s throat constricted. She knew this was not a test. Most likely everyone will have forgotten the evening by tomorrow morning. But right now, as Harry passed off the present and B’Elanna sat up to investigate it with her hands...it certainly _felt_ like a test.

B’Elanna looked over to Tom with a smirk.

“I know this isn’t your wrapping.”

“I’ll try not to be offended by that,” he chuckled.

And without further ado, B’Elanna was tearing open the packaging. She was sliding the paper off of the gift. She was staring at the item in her hands with an unreadable expression.

“Noise cancelling headphones,” she said. Then, luckily, smiled. “Oh, this is going to come in handy. Especially if I’m still living with this one when the Christmas carols start again,” she nudged Tom.

“Who do you think it’s from?” asked Chakotay, still lazily petting Cara’s head.

“I think...I don’t know.” B’Elanna looked around the room, narrowing her eyes. “Hm. Anyone want to come clean?”

“I am your Secret Santa,” Seven said.

There were a few slight chuckles from the group, but mostly everyone just looked impressed. Seven focused on B’Elanna to keep herself from feeling awkward with everyone’s eyes on her. The Chief Engineer had never looked so shocked in her life. But she’d also never looked more pleased with something that Seven had done.

“Thank you,” B’Elanna said earnestly.

Seven adjusted how she was seated, fidgeting restlessly. She said, “There is a selection of Klingon operas preloaded on the headphones. You may make your selections using the device in the same box.”

B’Elanna found said device, and nodded with an even more impressed smile.

“This is really nice. Thank you, Seven.”

Seven nodded.

“You are welcome.”

A moment of quiet passed among the group, before Harry jumped up to grab the next present. 

“Ah, this one’s for Seven!” Harry grinned. 

As soon as the box was in Seven’s hand, she began analyzing it. A rectangular prism. Wrapped rather neatly; almost too neatly for most of this merry group’s handiwork. The writing of her name was in a script she knew well. But she would not spoil the fun for the others. The fun, it seemed, was in guessing who the ‘secret santa’ was.

Seven tore into the wrapping, snapping the tape that had held the edges of the box together so well. Inside was a mess of green and red paper, an ancient method of hiding the contents of the box yet further. She made quick work of this and found...a sweater.

The arms were red while patterns of grey and green lined the front. One line was zig-zagged. Another, chevrons. Santa rode his sleigh across the bottom, pulled by eight basic forms of reindeer. Flipping the sweater over, Seven found a number on the back...a Seven, written in the same style that ancient sports teams wore numbers on their uniforms.

Looking around at the giddy faces lined on couches, beanie bags, and chairs, Seven feigned a grateful smile.

“I do not know who would have gifted me such a...unique article of clothing.”

Tom wrapped his arm around B’Elanna.

“My guess is Chakotay.”

“No,” B’Elanna said with a shake of her head. “Sweaters aren’t his thing. Definitely Janeway.”

“Captain Janeway,” Tuvok explained, “Already gifted me a candle holder.”

“What about the Doc?” Harry asked.

Everyone went silent, and all eyes turned to the Doctor. He was sitting right beside Seven on one of the sofas directly in front of the fireplace. And in the light of that fireplace, his face went through every expression of shock, incredulity, and, ultimately, blushed admission. He didn’t need to say anything for Seven to know he was, in fact, her Secret Santa.

“Okay, you caught me,” the Doctor said, turning to meet Seven’s eyes. “Since you’re part of the family now, I thought you should have your own ugly Christmas Sweater. It’s a tradition.”

Seven turned away from him to hide the heat flooding her cheeks. 

Family? Tradition? She had begun this holiday season through a mild curiosity. She wanted to learn about earth holidays, and investigate their origins and rituals. But now...this was quickly becoming another matter entirely.

And most terrifying of all, she was enjoying it. She enjoyed sitting here with a mildly poisonous substance, made with a nauseating mixture of alcohol and peppermint, flooding through her veins. She enjoyed watching her friends - her new family - opening gifts and laughing and joking. She enjoyed pulling the sweater over her head, to the whoops and cheers of her crewmates, and finding that the sweater made her look tiny in comparison. 

“Thank you, Doctor,” Seven said softly.

His eyes twinkled as he wrapped an arm around her in a half-hug.

“Merry Christmas, Seven.”


	5. "Christmas, Part Two"

Chapter Five  
“Christmas, Part Two”

As the evening drew on, Seven noticed a gradual change in the crew. They sank deeper into their chairs; sipped their alcohol slower; stared into the fireplace for just a little longer than before. In essence, the longer this party went on, the less it resembled a party. 

By 2200, the room had become quiet enough even for Seven. Looking around, she found the crew in a stupor, everyone half-asleep in their designated seats. B’Elanna rested with her head in Tom’s lap as he ran his hand through her hair. The Captain and Commander Chakotay snuggled close together on their sofa, petting the dog in between them as an excuse to ‘accidentally’ brush against one another’s hands. Tuvok was sat upright in his chair, never one to slump. But even he held his hands in a meditative pose, eyes shut as he breathed deeply.

Turning, Seven located the other members of the senior staff. Neelix was gently taking empty glasses from the tables and setting them on his tray as he started the lengthy cleanup process. Harry lay on one of the bean bag chairs, his feet warming by the fireside. And last, but not least, the Doctor sat beside her, sipping a glass of whiskey as he watched the fire dancing in front of them. 

Seven nestled deeper into her sweater. It was, annoyingly, very comfortable. And it made her feel warm, both in a physical way and, if she admitted, in an emotional way. To be called a member of the family...to be told that people cared about her, as an individual...She could not remember what that had felt like before her experience with the Borg, but she was certainly glad she had found it again.

Sounds from an old-Earth radio suddenly perked Seven’s ears. She turned to find Neelix adjusting a vintage music player, wincing as it crackled and sputtered. But then, just before he gave up and returned them to the silence they’d been enjoying, soft instrumental music began filtering out of the sound system. With a satisfied smile, Neelix joined Harry on the floor in front of the fire.

The song seemed to awaken something in the crew. Everyone’s head lifted, and for a moment they met each other’s eyes. But no one spoke. The Doctor didn’t even hum along; just sat with that same unreadable expression as his eyes glazed over. 

It wasn’t a joyful expression, either. That’s what made Seven so curious. They all wore frowns. Their eyes glistened, brows furrowing so slightly she wouldn’t have been able to see it without her advanced senses. Something about this song made them...sad? Angry? What was it?

 _’Next year all our troubles will be miles away_ ’, the woman sang.

Ah. Was that why they were so sad? Because they knew that next year they would still be trapped here?

 _’Faithful friends who are dear to us_ ,’ the song continued, _’will be near to us once more_.’

Seven was beginning to see why this song made everyone so upset. They were miles from their homes; their friends; their families. But what she did not understand was why they continued to listen to it, if it made them sad?

 _’Someday soon we all will be together if the fates allow. Until then, we’ll have to muddle through somehow_.’

At that, everyone met each other’s eyes again. They forced smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. They eased back into their seats, settling closer to each other than ever. 

On the last lyric, the Doctor quietly sang, _”So have yourself a merry little Christmas now_.”

The final notes of the song echoed, slowly settling in the dust of the holographic furniture. Neelix turned off the music player. And other than that, everything fell silent. No one moved. No one spoke. Everything was all just...quiet. Peaceful.

Throughout the evening, everyone slowly filtered out. Tom, Harry, and B’Elanna had an early shift the next day. Tuvok wanted to do some reading in his quarters before going to sleep. Eventually, Seven was left alone with Captain Janeway. They didn’t mention it at first; just continued to eat the last bits of food and watch the fire. 

But then, all of a sudden, the captain said, “This time of year is tough.” She swirled the last drops of her drink, then continued, “That’s why we try to make the holidays special.”

“Captain?” Seven asked, “What is the purpose of performing traditions that make one sad, or nostalgic?”

The Captain gave her a warm, tired smile. For a moment Seven felt like a child who had asked a ridiculous, illogical question. But then Janeway set her drink down and folded her hands, apparently deep in thought about her answer.

“Sometimes, Seven, feeling negative emotions can be a positive experience.”

Seven knitted her brows.

“I do not understand.”

Janeway’s lips quirked into a smile.

“Well, I suppose,” she said, “remembering where we came from and where we’re going gives the crew a sense of meaning. We might feel a bit nostalgic when we hear a certain song, or think about home. But that just means that we’ve had good times, and we’ve made some kind of an impact on the world. Am I making any sense? I know Neelix puts a little too much alcohol in these drinks sometimes.”

“I believe I am starting to understand,” said Seven. “However...there is still much to learn.”

“Well,” the Captain said, patting Seven’s knee as she stood. “That’s not such a bad problem to have.”

“No. I suppose it’s not.”


	6. What Are You Doing New Year's?

Chapter Six  
“What Are You Doing New Year’s?”

As Seven walked to the Mess Hall on the evening of December 31st, her energy levels were low. Her cortical implants were more sensitive than usual. And worst of all, the room was so crowded she could hear the clamor of people and drinks and music from 20 yards away. 

This was not going to be a pleasant evening.

“Ah! Seven!” the Doctor greeted, almost as soon as the door shut behind her. 

Seven’s teeth grinded against each other. The noise of the party was almost unbearable, now that she was inside. And the Doctor’s smiling, excitable expression only served to make her grumpier.

“I am beginning to feel nostalgic for Commander Tuvok’s Hanukkah celebration,” she said, casting a wary eye around the room. “It was much quieter. Peaceful.”

“I’m just glad to hear you using the word ‘nostalgic’,” the Doctor said, his grin broadening in a way that made Seven even more irritated. 

“You should not encourage the crew to lose sleep. Is it not common knowledge in the medical community that sleep is essential for overall health?”

The Doctor shrugged.

“It’s only once a year, Seven. And besides, the crew doesn’t listen to my suggestions any other time. They definitely won’t on New Year’s Eve.”

Before Seven could respond, Neelix passed by with a tray in his hand. The Doctor instantly grabbed two glasses of champagne from him, passing greetings that were far too cheerful for this hour of the night. Seven gritted her teeth a little harder. And then, as the Doctor handed her one of the champagne flutes, she raised an eyebrow.

“You should not be encouraging the use of alcoholic substances, either.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes, but retained his smile.

“As I said: it’s only once a year.”

Seven scrutinized him for a moment. Scrutinized the champagne. And then, not without a strange sensation somewhere between giddiness and regret, downed a large portion of the alcohol in one gulp. The taste was...bearable. And it gave her an excuse to stay silent for a few seconds as she formulated her next words.

“Doctor...what is the purpose of celebrating the rotation of the Earth when the crew is so far away?”

He did not respond immediately. Sipping his own champagne, he watched her with a careful eye. And then, with a tilt of the head, he said, “I think I’ll leave that for you to answer.”

He stepped away, giving her one final knowing smile. Then he raised his glass to her.

“Enjoy the party, Seven.”

“And you, Doctor,” she replied.

But her mind was far away, pondering his words. Did she know the answer? Had she found the purpose of the holidays? Was her research complete?

She was not sure. So, not without hesitation and a lot of ‘liquid courage’ (Mr. Paris’ name for alcoholic beverages), Seven joined the party.

…………………… ………………………… …………………….. …………………...

Gratefully, the first person to approach Seven was Commander Tuvok. Unlike the others, he had abstained from alcohol and was wearing his usual uniform. Even his posture was as formal as ever, hands behind the back and back straight. Seven breathed a little easier in his presence; a calming center surrounded by the chaos of the festivities.

“I wished to thank you,” Tuvok said, “for the portable energy source you gifted me for Hanukkah. It will no doubt be useful the next time Voyager experiences a power failure.”

“Do you expect such an occurrence soon?” 

“No,” Tuvok said, tilting his head, “however, events on this ship are rarely predictable.”

Seven found herself smiling at his statement. Perhaps others would have found it strange, for a Vulcan to be able to bring out the smile on her Borg-raised face. But she knew better. Tuvok and herself shared a common understanding of one another, being so similar in their goals of harmony and perfection and their quest for peaceful and efficient cooperation, so it was only right that they would share a sense of humor.

“Perhaps,” Tuvok continued, “we will be able to use your Menorah in next year’s celebration.”

Seven nodded, sensing that this was an invitation of sorts.

“I look forward to it.”

With a farewell greeting, Tuvok disappeared into the crowd. Seven watched him for a long moment as she sipped her champagne. Had she just....made plans? To attend a social function? Almost a year in advance? It would seem that she had.

But the strangest thing of all was that she was looking forward to it. If she were not Borg, she would even, perhaps, say that she was...excited.

Seven turned to find B’Elanna approaching the snack table. She poured herself some blood wine, then noticed Seven’s presence with a small smile.

“Enjoying the party?” asked B’Elanna, with much verbal irony.

“I have not been here long enough to make a judgment either way,” Seven said. A diplomatic answer.

B’Elanna’s grin widened. Half of her blood wine disappeared in one gulp. But she did not leave the snack and drink table. Instead, she approached Seven.

“Thanks again, for the Christmas present. My Klingon operas have never sounded so good.”

“You are welcome,” replied Seven. “I was aware that you did not enjoy the holidays, so I wished to give you a gift that would help you…’drown them out’.”

B’Elanna tilted her head.

“You know, I think we have a better understanding of each other than I thought.” She raised her glass. “Maybe in the new year we can spend some more time together.”

Seven clinked her glass with B’Elanna’s. And, with just a touch of embarrassment, she said, “I will drink to that.”

B’Elanna’s eyes widened as Seven downed the rest of her champagne. Then she joined her in her drinking, and the two parted with well wishes and a kind farewell.

It was getting to be late in the evening. Seven checked the clock on the wall, an enormous structure designed by Neelix for tonight in particular. But the hands blurred together slightly; most likely a minor error in her optical sensors. Before she could repair the damage or inform the Doctor of her ailment, a hand landed on her shoulder.

Captain Janeway, swaying slightly with pink cheeks and a wide grin. Seven was glad that she had researched intoxication and its effect on human physiology, else she would have worried for the captain’s health.

“Seven,” the Captain slurred, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, “You’ve adapted...so quickly. And...Seven…” The Captain dug her pointer finger into Seven’s shoulder. “I am so, so proud of you. So proud.”

Seven was about to suggest the captain sit down, or perhaps try a glass of water. Her words were kind, and they made Seven feel a sense of joy she had never felt before, but the captain really did need to calm herself. But before she could do anything, the clock was striking ten to midnight. Neelix practically screamed at the sound, then jumped around the room as if impersonating the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland (another series suggested by Lieutenant Paris). 

“Senior officers!” Neelix called, “Time to go to the Astrometrics lab! Hurry; we don’t want to miss the New Year!”

In another time, a week ago even, Seven would have rolled her eyes. She would have said that they could not ‘miss’ the new year simply because they did not watch the clock change from one day to another. But this was not another time. 

And instead, she hurried out of the room with all of the other senior officers, snatching one last glass of champagne as she went.

…………………. ……………………. ……………………. …………………………..

The Astrometrics lab did not look as it did most days. Firstly, because banners and balloons had been strewn on all of the walls and consoles, giving it a more festive appearance. And second, of course, because it was a crowded little space with all of the senior officers huddled together to watch the screen.

The most noticeable difference, however, was the screen itself. It displayed a countdown that was easily readable, even in all of their slightly drunken states. And in the center, in beautifully high definition, rotated the Earth.

The Earth was mostly dark, just a slight, slight brightness on the left side that was almost out of sight. Neelix explained that when the sun appeared on the right side, just over the date line in the Pacific ocean, then the New Year would begin. 

Seven looked around the room and nearly smiled again. The senior officers all wore hopeful, bright-eyed expressions that made them look younger than their years. Even Tuvok carried a glass full of champagne and a small smile that tilted his lips upward. Janeway and Chakotay stood in the front and center, shoulders brushing against each other. Tom, Harry, and B’Elanna leaned on the consoles to be closer to the screen, carefully avoiding buttons that would change the display. The Doctor stood beside Seven, watching the screen with as close an eye as the others. Seven thought to ask why he, specifically, was excited about such an event; a planet he had never stepped foot on. But she filed this question away for later.

The countdown was almost complete.

“Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen,” Neelix led, bouncing with each word. “Twelve, eleven…”

“TEN!” The entire room seemed to shout. On the next number, Seven joined just so she wouldn’t feel out of place. “NINE, EIGHT, SEVEN, SIX…”

For the last five seconds, the atmosphere changed dramatically. It was as if the air itself was electrified. Seven felt the hair on her arms raise. Her eyes locked onto the screen, darting between the countdown and the Earth.

“FIVE, FOUR, THREE, TWO, ONE.”

After the final word, everything exploded. The officers shouted their “Happy New Years” and hugged one another. The Doctor’s arm wrapped around Seven’s shoulders, as she watched Tom and B’Elanna share a kiss beside her. Harry and Neelix clinked glasses with Tuvok, as Janeway and Chakotay hugged and cheered.

And at the same time, in beautiful contrast, the first sembleges of light peeked over the right side of the Earth. Daylight of the first day of the new year. A new dawn. A new beginning. Thousands of lightyears away, humans were celebrating the same event. For the next 24 hours, the entire Earth would celebrate in hourly succession, facing the new year with bright, teary-eyed faces and cheers of good wishes. 

Seven’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. She...she understood. She understood it all, now. 

………………… …………………….. …………………… ………………………….

After the exciting moment of midnight, the party died down dramatically. They all remained in Astrometrics, nobody wishing to be the first to depart. But instead of shouting and carrying on, they simply leaned against walls, or sat on steps, and conversed quietly amongst themselves. Here, Janeway and Chakotay chatting about their past lives on Earth. There, Tom and B’Elanna kissing by a monitor. Elsewhere, Tuvok and Harry setting up their next Kal-Toh match.

Seven settled on the staircase on the left side of the room, where she could keep an eye on both Earth and the party. She sipped her champagne slowly now, wanting to both savor it and keep her senses. 

As she sat, a shadow fell over her. She looked up to find the Doctor.

“May I join you?” he asked, gesturing to the spot beside her on the top of the staircase.

She obliged, shifting over to give him room. Even after he was seated beside her, they were quiet for a long moment. She was glad for it; it gave her time to think and watch the others. But she found that when he next spoke, she was not disappointed or irritated. She was, in fact, pleased to have a companion.

“So, Seven, how did your holiday research project go?”

Tilting her head, Seven nodded.

“I believe I have answered my query with a reasonable explanation.”

“Oh?” the Doctor smiled, taking a swig of champagne. 

“Yes. I have identified why people celebrate holidays, and what their function is aside from recreation.”

“I’m glad.”

Seven bit her bottom lip for a moment, calculating whether or not to describe her findings now or later. The combination of champagne, celebration, and social interaction must have done their work on her, because a moment later she was ready to explain her entire theory.

“Celebrations aren’t necessarily about the holiday itself, but about the people you are celebrating with. At this time of year, a time of reflection, people look back on the relationships they have formed in the prior year, and look ahead to the experiences they wish to be a part of in the future. Additionally,” she adjusted how she was seated, looking across at the officers spread around the room. “Traditions help a person to feel that they are a part of something bigger than themselves.”

“A collective?” the Doctor asked with a raised brow and a shoulder nudge.

Seven turned to him, meeting his eyes. 

“A family.”

The Doctor’s jaw dropped slightly at that, but he said nothing. They continued to stare at each other for a long moment. Then, slowly, his lips spread into a smile and he raised his glass.

“Happy New Year, Seven.”

She raised her own glass and clinked it against his with a small, but not insignificant, smile.

“Happy New Year, Doctor.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much for reading! and happy holidays!!


End file.
